Well, here in the northern hemisphere it’s the first day of Spring – meteorologically speaking, if not astronomically. (If you’re interested in the ins and outs of the technical definitions, here’s a blog post I wrote for work a few years ago on the subject).
Spring is my favourite season – whether it’s because it’s the season of new life and light after the long cold dark of winter, or because it’s the season of Easter, or perhaps because that when my birthday happens to fall (quite often on Easter day or Good Friday, in fact).
Spring affects people in different ways. For me, I’m afraid, it makes me want to write poetry. So here you go – one I penned on this day a couple of years ago – when the weather was just slightly better than it is today…
On the first day of March
Some window in the sky flings open
And a new and lovely, holy light bursts in,
So heaven-heavy with pure glory I can hardly bear the weight,
And now the wait is over –
And in a thousand trees a thousand birds
Lift up their voice as one and sing,
Sing out their hearts into the still and shining air
Until the light-drenched silence rings with peals of bells proclaiming, Spring!
Like angels heralding the dawn –
The morning stars who sang the birth of time.
Thinnest swathing-wraps of cloud unveil a sky new-born
And life quickens in bud and vein,
And couples kissing in the park know love is something just invented.
The tired and clichéd world is made anew today,
Its scarred and wrinkled face alight with life,
Lit up with joy of being loved;
Everything and everyone is beautiful this moment,
Touched with surprising grace.
Other days will come
When no birds sing and clouds blot out the sun –
But this now day is real, it cannot be undone.
One day it will return and never end.